Convergence
by RandomHamster33
Summary: Thor and Loki go on a trip to Vanaheim for a rare magical occurrence and end up falling into the hands of some unsavory people with a sinister goal revolving around the youngest prince of Asgard. (whump, h/c, pre-Thor)
1. Separate

**A/N:**

 **Hello again! Since I promised more Thor and Loki content, I'm here to deliver on that. I'm obviously a fan of hurt/comfort (lol), so there's** **gonna** **be quite a bit in this story. ;3 Plus plenty of them being brotherly, of course!**

 **I got the idea for this by reading lots of other stories, so if there's similarities, I swear I'm not trying to copy anyone. I'm just putting my own thoughts into a fic of this nature. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Father, please," Loki repeated, more insistent. He tried to keep the whine out of his voice, but some of it slipped through, much to his disdain. It didn't help his case, but he'd been arguing with the Allfather for what seemed like an hour (though it was much closer to five minutes).

"Loki . . ." Odin sighed, shaking his head. "You're not strong enough to go to Vanaheim, let alone during a magical occurrence; I've told you this."

"I am strong enough, though—I have my own magic, I would be fine!"

"And what happens if one of the witches or hunters there decides you're better off dead? Hmm? Would you be 'fine enough'' to escape entrapment if they decided you were an enemy? If they overpowered you?"

Loki fumed silently, flustered beyond belief. The alignment of the nearby stars in this particular region of Vanaheim produced a rare magical effect that caused all sorts of spiritual creatures and plants to take life and flourish—but only for one night. This convergence was only once every few hundred years, and the chance was too great and too tempting for the trickster to give up.

Unfortunately, Odin deemed it too dangerous for Loki.

"Mother would let me," was all the young god could finally come up with, looking at the shined floor moodily.

Odin smiled slightly, knowing how frustrated Loki was and how hard he was trying to go.

"Well, Frigga would certainly let you go _with_ her, yes. But you know we've been busy, and she is far more concerned with other business at the moment—she told you this herself, did she not?" the Allfather asked.

Loki sighed, but nodded and recalled the conversation. Upon asking Frigga about it, she had smiled sweetly and pet his hair, but said she would have to decline for particular reasons dealing with politics and other realms.

And the last thing Loki wanted was to be babied and held back by royal guards that would come with him—not to mention _Thor_ , the blundering oaf. He would only get in the way. That was why Loki had not even mentioned to his older brother the convergence.

"I'm sorry, my son, but I would feel much better if you were not out alone with no backup plan. Perhaps when you are older," Odin continued. Loki frowned deeply, upset at this; he debated internally whether or not to just sneak out, but knew if he was caught he'd be in _very_ hot water with both his parents, which never turned out well for him.

Loki was just about to turn and stalk out the throne room when he saw the red-and-gold figure of his brother step up beside him. The younger god cocked his head at this.

"I'd be willing to go with Loki, Father—if it allows him to do something he's interested in," Thor said, and Loki nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. He had to refrain from letting his mouth fall open.

Odin glanced between the two brothers, looking contemplative. A pregnant pause followed.

"I suppose if Thor goes with you, Loki, you would both be better off," Odin finally said with a small smile on his face.

Thor nodded in acceptance and then immediately turned to Loki, who was still stunned. The eyes on him knocked him out of his state and the trickster quickly cleared his throat and said, "Th-thank you, Father."

Odin nodded his head once and then waved his hand. "Be careful out there, my sons. Vanaheim is filled with spots that are shady to Heimdall's vision."

"Yes, of course," Thor responded. He turned around and Loki followed the thunderer out of the throne room. As soon as the doors closed behind them, the trickster grabbed Thor's arm and yanked him around—well, kind of. As much as he could, Thor did the rest.

"Why did you do that?" Loki hissed, glaring daggers at his brother.

"What? I did it because I know how much how like stuff like this"—

"How did you even know? I never told you about this convergence, let alone when I was talking to Father!"

"I may not have your book smarts, Loki, but I can tell when you are emotional about something, and I know how to ask questions. Mother was very telling about how much you were looking forward to this."

"I didn't want your help. I don't need a babysitter!" Loki was defiant, his eyes burning with anger.

Thor scowled at the smaller god, annoyed he was being so petulant. "If you don't want to go with me, then fine. Don't. Because if you _don't_ go with me, you don't go at all."

With that, Thor stormed away, red cape swaying with his movements. Loki watched him go for a moment, determined to be stubborn, but it lasted only a moment before he realized how much he _really_ wanted to go see the convergence. He shifted on his feet, fighting his pride, before taking off after Thor.

Unbeknownst to the trickster, Thor heard his footsteps coming rapidly towards him, already expecting the mind change, a smirk on his lips as a hand casually brushed against Thor's arm to get his attention.

"N-now, I don't mean to say I don't want to go, Thor," Loki began with a slight hint of nervousness to his voice.

Thor hid his smile and instead listened to his brother talk about the convergence as they walked together down the hall.

* * *

Vanaheim was dark, shadows creeping in every corner of the forest they were currently travelling through. The two brothers were one in front of the other with Loki leading the way as he had the directions to the cove where they would be waiting through the night. It was not even dusk yet, but the walk was a bit long and Loki wanted to make sure they got there in time to see everything bloom and change. This would be an excellent time for harvesting very rare plants and creatures for his magical use.

Thor watched the green cape flow in front of him as they walked. He admired the way his brother wanted to come here alone and be on his own for a change—it was quite brave of him, but Loki was no fighter. The trickster preferred magic, _a woman's craft,_ Thor had always thought, and although Loki had quite _useful_ magic and his own daggers, he wasn't exceedingly strong and lacked stamina. The chances of meeting ne'er-do-wells in Vanaheim could be high, and if a group of them encountered his brother, his safety could be on the line; words would not always be effective.

Yes, this would probably be a bit boring for Thor, but Loki was excited about it, and seeing his brother happy was something the thunderer always enjoyed seeing. Loki was, a lot of the time, stoic and quiet, so it was nice to see him smile.

Thor wasn't saying they didn't get along, but their interests varied greatly and it could be hard to find something they both enjoyed together. Going on quests or trips to different realms, however, was usually greeted with content from both sides.

"My goodness, can you walk any louder?" Loki snapped from in front of him. Thor lurched out of his thoughts at this, having not been paying attention.

Loki glanced over his shoulder at the thunderer, who now bore a blank stare.

 _Typical._

"You're stomping through this forest like a bildshnipe. I wouldn't be surprised if every being in this realm knew we were here because of you!" Loki scoffed. Thor had been stepping on every fallen branch, leaf, and bit of underbrush possible, it seemed. He was interrupting Loki's planning with his incessant noise

"I have not seen a single person out here at all, brother—and I doubt I was being . . . _that_ loud," Thor said with a sheepish grin. "Are we almost to where this 'converging' will happen?"

Thor truly was getting tired of walking through a forest that all looked the same.

Loki sighed with a quick roll of his eyes. This was just one of many reasons why he hadn't wanted to bring the thunderer with him.

"Yes, we're just a few hundred meters away, in fact. But you need to be more cautious, thunder steps. We don't want you scaring everything within a forty mile radius away from us," Loki chided. He sent Thor an admonishing look, raising his eyebrows at him.

Thor shrugged, resigned, and continued following his brother through the dense trees. He'd never been one for stealth.

"Okay, here's the place," Loki said a minute later. He stepped forward and into a spread out clearing. Trees were scattered in smaller clusters throughout, thick vines winding between branches, and the pitch sky could be seen through the sprawling canopies. Stars dotted their vision, and several larger ones were almost exactly lined up, their far away bodies seeming to touch.

Thor watched his brother with a cocked head as the trickster began to whisper something under his breath. Loki's hands lit with soft green magic, barely visible in daylight, but brighter in the dark.

"What is it that you are doing?" Thor asked loudly to draw his brother's attention. He stepped closer to peer over his shoulder.

Loki jumped just slightly in response, eyes widening. He flicked his eyes back to the blonde standing behind him and smiled nervously. "Ah, just, uh, getting a bit excited. Magic, emotions, you know." He shrugged and ran a hand down the front of his armored chest. Thor's lips tugged into a smirk at the display but he continued on.

"And . . . _when_ does this start?"

"In a few minutes, brother! Don't rush things; be patient for once." Loki seemed dissatisfied, giving Thor burning green eyes.

Thor frowned but relented, knowing this was Loki's deal. He didn't want to ruin whatever this was for him, but . . . still, the elder prince was _already_ bored and wanting for _something_ to happen.

As per usual on their excursions, Thor had brought along his hammer, Mjölnir. He'd had it for a long time now for it was his customary weapon, and nothing bested it in terms of reliability. He'd gotten quite good at wielding it and was used to having it at his side. Currently, he bounced its handle in his hand out of restlessness, wishing for a fight.

"Don't be so impatient. There's nothing to fight here, Thor," Loki said, sensing the mood from his older brother. "Just do whatever, I suppose, as I do what I want." He glanced towards the sky. "It's starting!"

Thor lifted blue eyes to the darkness but saw nothing different than from a few minutes ago. He was about to ask what was happening when he spotted Loki bounding across the clearing.

"Loki!" the thunderer shouted in surprise. He needed to keep the trickster in his sights; it was his duty as the elder. Dark green flashed through the trees and Thor quickly caught up to his brother, who was now bent down beside something. "Loki, what . . ."

Thor faded off as he saw what Loki was currently inspecting. A small creature, no bigger than Mjölnir in size, was sitting at his brother's booted feet. The creature was translucent and glowing with a blueish-green hue, its large ears flicking towards the sound of Thor approaching. It had small horns protruding from its head and only two large back paws on which it bounced around on.

Loki seemed exceedingly interested in it, his green eyes wide and a hesitant hand reaching out to brush against its ears. His fingers made contact with what looked like only light, but the magic creature was as solid as anything. With a twitch of its nose, it turned and leapt away into the underbrush.

Loki got to his feet with a grin on his face. He looked at Thor with shining eyes.

"Was that not the most magical thing you've ever seen?" Loki beamed. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Thor wasn't sure how to respond right away but decided that it _had_ piqued his interest.

"Verily, little brother. What was that thing?" Thor asked.

"I don't even know. A moonlight sprite in origin, however, I believe. There are many kinds, and that's a majority of the animals that will come to life from the magic of the convergence tonight. Myself, I'm looking for the birds. Moon sprite feathers are very useful in spells."

Thor nodded. "Anything dangerous?"

Loki paused, thinking it over, but ended up shaking his head. "Don't think so. Personally, I'm more surprised we haven't seen anyone else yet. That's the only thing I was slightly worried about."

"Do not worry about them, brother. If we run into trouble, I shall fight them off." Thor smirked but was met with a roll of the eyes from Loki.

"I am more than capable of defending myself, you'd do well to remember," Loki retorted.

"Of course. But I _was_ sent to have your back," Thor replied.

Loki huffed and continued on anyway. Thor followed his movements, not quite paying attention to what exactly he was doing but keeping the younger prince in his line of sight. Thor let his eyes wander the area, taking note of the similarly colored and glowing plants that flowered around them. They let off pollen into the air to give the forest an even more magical feeling.

How ever much Thor said he was going to keep a close eye on Loki, he soon found himself utterly distracted. He didn't have much in the way for an attention span at times, especially when he was bored, and watching his brother collect plants and the occasional feather from the ground was mind numbingly boring considering that Thor had no idea what any of these things really were or what they were for. Asking Loki a question every two seconds would only annoy the young god and make him even more sassy, so the thunderer kept quiet and just followed. Unfortunately, as previously stated, this only drove Thor to the point of distraction via butterfly.

So when something very much not blueish-green and glowing zipped by in the opposite direction, Thor's eyes went right to it. He cocked his head at it, trying to locate it in the trees. Deciding he had to know what he'd just seen, Thor turned and sauntered after it. Meanwhile, Loki continued counting the petals on a low-growing star plant.

Loki picked three petals off the flower and stood, tucking the collected pieces gently into the pouch on his belt. He stepped over a fallen and rotted out log, not even noticing the disappearance of his older brother or the loud footsteps that typically accompanied him. No, Loki was too entranced by the magical things he was seeing.

A sparkling panther crept through the bushes on the right side, its lean body vanishing into the leaves. Two birds sung eerily pretty and person-like melodies high in the trees.

"Thor, look at that," Loki said, pointing to another furry creature crawling along a nearby branch. The six-legged rodent-looking beast lifted its head and barked a soft sound at the lone god, and when a response wasn't given, Loki finally glanced over his shoulder to discover that there was no thunder god behind him.

"Thor?" Loki asked with confusion in his voice. He searched the immediate area but was unable to see even a glimpse of red or gold in the trees. "Thor, where did you run off to?" He turned to go back the way he'd came but frowned and wondered why he cared that he was alone. This was what he'd wanted in the beginning, but now . . . it was strange without his loud brother looking out for him. And for Thor to leave without saying anything?

Definitely out of character.

"Thor, are you"—

The ground gave way from under Loki's feet and he gave a quick, clipped shout. The fall itself seemed to last a decade as the night sky got suddenly farther away.

Loki hit the hard, rocky floor of the pit with zero of his usual grace and normal cat-like ability to land on his feet. His body slammed with a hollow thud against the stone and he cried out, but it was quickly replaced by a gasping breath as he inhaled roughly, all the wind knocked out of him. He thought he felt something crack but he didn't know what.

Wincing, the trickster attempted to shift, to sit up, but was unsuccessful. A second later, something hard struck him across the head and he was knocked unconscious anyway.

* * *

Thor couldn't find whatever had caught his attention in the first place no matter how hard he searched. He was pretty sure he'd walked in a circle. Scratching his head with a hand, the thunder god furrowed his brow and realized he should probably get back to Loki. He berated himself for getting side tracked so easily and set off to seek out his brother.

"Loki! Loki, brother, where are you?"

Thor didn't even see the hit coming as it struck him so hard against the back of his head that he dropped to the ground like a ragdoll. Mjölnir fell beside him unceremoniously, and the god laid there on his back limply as his brother was dragged through tunnels beneath him.


	2. Waking

Loki didn't so much as wake up as he did jerk into existence. He inhaled sharply, body tensing; immediately, pain lanced through his ribs and a pounding started in the side of his head. The god hissed softly, eyes squeezing shut to maybe try and relieve the feeling. He laid there for close to ten minutes, just waiting for the pain to fade.

When it finally did somewhat, Loki opened his eyes with a long exhale. He was laying on his back in a stone cell. He could tell it was a cell by the fact there were thick bars along the far side, an expansive locking system taking up a quarter of the door.

The cell was dark and musty but not unclean; it smelt of metal and dust.

Loki winced as he began pushing himself up into a sitting position. The side of his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and he could feel the dried blood that matted his hair. Reaching a hand up, the young prince tenderly examined his injury with delicate fingers; he was relieved to discover it wasn't a serious wound—just a shallow gash that bled heavily because it was on his head. However, there was also the matter of why his ribs hurt with every breath. Worried he may have broken one, Loki lifted pieces of his armor away from his torso to inspect it.

No, just bruises.

He'd gotten lucky. His natural healing factor would have them fixed in no time, not to mention his magic could do it even faster.

Except, Loki realized with a sinking feeling, he couldn't even access the well of magic inside him.

Whoever— _whatever_ —had taken him had also made sure to place a block on his magic. Damn. However, a quick pat down of his armor revealed he still had one of his daggers; they hadn't found it hidden in a boot. This brought some modicum of relief.

Loki shifted his legs under his body and shakily stood, whole body trembling slightly. He braced a hand against the nearby wall; the stone under his palm was cold and rough. Limping somewhat to the cell's door, the god tried to find any indication of where he was.

There were no clear details in the cell or in the dark hallways that led away from it in the front and to the right. Plain torches lit very small sections in various spots, barely illuminating any of the surrounding areas. Loki squinted his eyes to maybe see better, but the hallway to the front only faded away into darkness. He took a step closer and casually took hold of the metal bars to steady himself and get a better look, but a burst of pain made him cry out and release them.

Grimacing, Loki looked down at his now shaking hands. They were marked with dozens of repeated ruins that seemed to be burned into the soft flesh of his palms and fingers. The prince stifled a pained whine and instead pressed his palms to his thighs in an attempt to alleviate some of the sting.

Okay, so escape through the locked door wasn't an option.

Loki didn't let this completely defeat him, as he had yet to examine any other aspect of his current prison. Sighing softly at the dulling of the burns his hands had received, he pulled himself up to stand straight and scrutinized the cell door (keeping his distance, however). If one looked closely, they could see the numerous ruins carved into the metal bars along every inch.

 _Whoever has me trapped has certainly done their research,_ Loki thought with a begrudged admiration. It was quite excellent work, by the looks of it. No doubt the cell itself was keeping his magic repressed and permitting him from touching the bars.

Loki was now facing the dilemma of _who_ exactly had abducted him. As he studied the rest of the plain prison for any sort of flaw he could exploit, he thought about his attackers and the situation that had led him to be kidnapped.

He and Thor had been walking . . . Thor. The elder prince had wandered off—or maybe he'd been taken out before so that whoever it was could get to Loki? That didn't seem likely, however, as any attack on the thunder god would have to work in one try and without Loki hearing anything. Perhaps Thor had simply just wandered off and was now searching for his brother, unaware of the danger he was in? Or was Thor also here, just in a different cell? Loki didn't hear any banging or the loud sounds frequently associated with him.

Loki deemed it unsafe to try and call out for his brother; he didn't want to attract any unwanted attention to himself. He could only hope that Thor was out there, not captured, and looking for him.

This place didn't settle well with Loki at all. He had a bad feeling—this all seemed too planned for just a simple kidnapping and ransom.

"Damn idiot," Loki whispered to himself about his brother, "wandering off. Now look at where I am."

As he took a seat on the nondescript stone bench in the cell, Odin's words from earlier echoed in Loki's head:

 _"You're not strong enough to go to_ _Vanaheim_ _. . . what happens if one of the witches or hunters there decides_ _you're_ _better off dead? . . . Would you be 'fine enough' to escape entrapment if they decided you were an enemy? If they overpowered you?"_

Loki's heart sank at the thought; he slumped down, resting his head on a hand. Odin had been right after all; with Thor gone for less than five minutes, he'd succeeded in getting himself nabbed and in a rotten situation.

Loki's morale was gone, just like that, and he wished Thor had never gone to Frigga to ask her what was wrong. Then they wouldn't have come. Sulking, the youngest prince angrily scuffed one of his boots against the floor and scowled. There was no way—that he could _see_ —to escape from the prison. Without help, he wouldn't be able to get out.

* * *

Loki wasn't sure how long he'd sat there when footsteps echoed from down the hall. He perked up at once, on high alert, and tried to discern who was walking towards him.

"I see our princeling has awoken," came a rough yet easy voice. Loki stood up to meet his captors, keeping his shoulders back and head held high.

A tall man stepped out, clad in a set of black-and-violet armor and a white, off one shoulder cape. His whole ensemble dripped with wealth and power, from his shined boots to his sharply angled face. The man's white hair was pulled back to a low ponytail, two pointed ears sticking from the pale strands—ah, an elf. Scarily purple eyes gleamed in the lowlight, examining Loki with satisfaction.

The elf was flanked by two plain looking people in black robes whose cowls covered half of their faces; there was one man and one woman.

Loki decided to keep quiet for the moment.

"I bet you're wondering why you're here, young one," the elf began. He wore a self-righteous smirk. Loki didn't give him the satisfaction of any response, instead just keeping intense green eyes locked to the elf's gaze.

"Well, I'm certainly not in a rush to tell you. Afterall, your acceptance isn't required for this. I'm sure you understand, yes?" the elf asked with a smug grin. He then turned to the two accompanying figures. "Take him to the room and get that wizard to prep him for the spell. I want it done within the hour."

"Yes, Master," the man and woman agreed simultaneously, bowing. The elf nodded and stalked off, back straight and hands clasped behind him. He vanished into the darkness.

Once he was gone, the servants turned to Loki. The prince eyed them warily; being taken to 'the room' and 'prepped' was not something he was interested in partaking in.

"Please don't try and run," the man said as he stepped forward with a key in his hand. "It'll just make it worse."

Loki again remained silent as he studied the situation. They were about to let him out, and, knowing he could more than likely practice magic outside the cell, they would probably restrain him somehow. The servants didn't seem too tough by themselves; he could probably fight them off, especially with the assistance of his magic. He remembered the dagger stowed now at his hip and prepared to take advantage of the situation.

The man opened the cell door; that was when Loki struck. He whipped the dagger out of its hiding place and slashed at the male servant. However, he had apparently seen it coming and sidestepped the attack, causing Loki to lose his balance somewhat and stumble farther from the cell. The man ripped the weapon out of his hands and cracked him in the back of the head with the handle. Loki gasped as his eyesight flickered, but he managed to stay upright and regain his footing.

Energy surged upon his removal from the prison and the god immediately prepared a spell. He whipped around, green crackling at his fingertips.

What he wasn't prepared for, however, was the woman reaching out for his arm. She lifted him easily off his feet with a quick flick of her wrist. She sent the prince head over heels to slam into the ground, knocking the wind out of him. At once, she was on top of him, her eyes burning a fiery pink from under her cloak's cowl; the man grabbed one of his wrists in a grip like a vice. He twisted his arm, earning a choked cry from Loki, and slapped on a cuff, clicking it into place. The magic the god had felt again in his veins flickered from existence just as fast as he'd had it back.

The woman stood and shoved Loki onto his stomach, where the man took his other arm and proceeded to lock a cuff onto that wrist as well. Loki snarled in frustration as he was yanked to his feet by the man. These people—these _servants_ —had beaten him: a god! He wanted to howl in anger.

Why were they so freakishly strong and fast? They'd shut him down like he was nothing, and to add insult to injury, his ribs ached more strongly now and his headache was back.

"Told you," the man admonished in a dull voice as he pushed Loki down the hall. The god refrained from snapping back, instead choosing to remain in the present. What was going to happen to him? Nothing good, he knew.

Seeing as how these people were servants—albeit skilled ones—Loki decided to put his silver tongue to good use and maybe discover what he was needed for.

"So . . . where exactly are we going?" Loki asked, trying to sound casual. He didn't want to show fear, even if he was becoming an anxious mess as he was forced down the long, dark hallway.

No answer.

"I heard your boss mention a spell?"

Still nothing. Loki wasn't getting anywhere. Maybe remaining aloof wouldn't get them to spill anything.

". . . Are you going to kill me?" Loki asked, letting fear drip into his voice. He was, after all, the youngest prince and not as strong as Thor, so would it be so unbelievable to be afraid?

 _"We're_ not," the man replied stoically after several long moments of silence. He jabbed Loki in the small of his back with the handle of the god's confiscated dagger. "No more talking."

"B-but why? Have I done something to anger your boss?"

"Quiet." The man prodded Loki again before pushing him slightly to the side to open a large door. He shoved the prince into the room, the woman following with soft footsteps.

The room itself was circular, with nothing in particular that screamed dangerous. The walls were smoother than the rest of the places he'd been and were scattered with specks and streaks of white. Loki couldn't place what the powder was, but he didn't think that was the most important thing at the moment. Off to the side, the woman pulled a lever on the wall, and with the sounds of rock grating against rock, a large stone slab lifted from the floor. It rose to about waist height and stopped. The platform was writ with minuscule lettering (ruins to stop magic use, _again_ ) and adorned with pieces of leather—restraints for anyone laying upon it.

The man shoved Loki forward, nearly knocking him over as he stumbled over his own feet. The prince was herded towards what could _definitely_ be called an altar.

"I am _not_ letting you tie me down on some stupid slab of—hey!" Loki's objections were cut off as he was picked up none too gently by the man. He struggled as he was practically dropped onto the stone altar face down, where he was held down by way too strong hands as the woman removed his cuffs.

Loki attempted to pick a fight with them, scrabbling onto his back to use his fists and legs to kick them off. Two sets of annoyed pink eyes drilled into him—as if he were a mere child that was throwing a tantrum and the parents were simply done with it all. The man took both of his wrists in a tight grip and slammed them down on opposite sides of his body; the woman grabbed his ankles and did the same.

"Let me go!" Loki snarled, desperately wishing he could use his magic. The pair of servants strapped him to the altar without second thoughts, their actions precise and practiced. Loki writhed on the table, furious and spitting like a cat. He pulled angrily at his restraints in vain.

"Find Dalin and tell him to get in here. I will report to Master," the man said, addressing the woman. She nodded in affirmation and they both exited the room, leaving the god strapped to the altar.

* * *

The forest was still dark when Thor finally sat up, his head swimming. He growled in his throat as he did so, unsure of what was happening. Pain flickered in his skull and he curled his lip.

Thor finally regained a sense of awareness and opened his eyes, blinking. He raised his head to the stars and frowned. Where was he . . . ?

"Loki!" Thor exclaimed, springing to his feet in an instant. This didn't last long as a wave of nausea overcame him and he swayed, losing his balance and toppling to the forest floor. Thor shook his head like a dog, dizzy. A distressed groan left his mouth before he could stop it.

Thor sat up on his knees, eyes wide open and pupils completely out of sync. He growled and whipped his head back and forth again, hoping to clear the sick feeling. After several minutes passed, his healing factor kicked in and began healing his ailments. The angry throbbing at the back of his head faded fairly quickly, but left a dull pounding in his temples for a while longer. Thor reached a hand up and came back with blood on his fingertips.

"How dare someone attack the son of Odin?" the thunderer grumbled as he saw the red liquid. He pushed himself to his feet, grabbing Mjölnir on his way up. Thor glanced around him, on edge. The sky was still dark, so he hadn't been out long—an hour at most.

Thor didn't know who had attacked him, but he knew they were going to pay. Not just for hitting him while his back was turned, but for distracting him from Loki.

Thor recognized the path he'd taken when he'd chased down whatever it was that he'd seen earlier that had ultimately ended in him leaving his brother's side. In only a few minutes, the older prince was in the area he was sure he'd last seen Loki. He began searching, hoping that without his guardian, Loki would have had the smarts to stay still and wait for Thor instead of going further.

However, this didn't seem the case as Thor continued looking. He couldn't find any sign of Loki, not hair nor hide, and was getting increasingly worried.

Stepping over a log, Thor heard a crunch under his boot and recoiled, startled. At first, he thought it just a branch, but upon closer inspection, found that it was glinting in the moonlight. He bent down and picked it up—one of Loki's daggers. Thor had accidentally stepped on it, snapping the handle with his weight.

A sudden realization dawned on the thunder god and his eyes widened. Someone had taken Loki! The distraction, the attack; it had all been a set up. He was absolutely sure that this was what had happened, and it sent his blood boiling.

Thor tucked the now broken weapon into his belt and returned his eyes to the surrounding forest. There was no evidence of any struggle nearby. Already, Thor felt overwhelmed, not only with worry but also because he had no idea where to start searching.

Thor ran a hand through his blond hair and stood in the middle of the forest, alone.

* * *

Loki could not get the restraints off his limbs. He'd tried everything he could think of, but with all the factors, he was helpless.

It hadn't been very long since the servants had left him alone to wait when the door opened.

Loki's head snapped to the side to see a scrawny man donned in dark gray clothes and cloak enter. He made eye contact with the prince, and Loki could see that he had a scar that went from his right temple to the bridge of his nose, the old injury barely missing the top of his eye.

"Oh, hello, hello, hello," the man rambled as he closed the door behind him and scurried over to a wall. Already Loki was perplexed by his demeanor.

The man opened an unseen panel on the wall, revealing a cabinet of some sort. He dug around in there, collecting items as Loki craned his neck to try and tell what it all was.

"Who are you?" Loki asked, hoping for an answer. This man was strange compared to everyone else.

Speaking of the man, at Loki's words, he perked up and turned around, fumbling slightly with the items he held.

"Oh, uh, you can talk!" he exclaimed, apparently alarmed.

"Um, yes. Why is that a surprise?"

"Pardon me, pardon me, no reason."

Loki frowned, baffled. This man had to be crazy.

"Anyway, my name's Dalin! I'm the magic expert around here, yes," 'Dalin' continued in answer to Loki's question.

"So you're a . . . wizard, then? The wizard the elf spoke of," Loki said.

Dalin paused, shrugging. "I suppose I am. Mister Sage can be a bit mysterious, ain't he? Yup, yup, yup, he can." Something he was holding fell, and he muttered an apology to it before picking it up.

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell if you're purposely acting like a lunatic or if you truly are." Loki's tone was full of confusion.

"No, no, no, you're mistaken."

"On what?"

Dalin stopped in his tracks. "What was the question?"

Loki held in his exasperated sigh. At least the wizard was giving him names. He could try and get more out of him.

Dalin stood off to one side and flourished a piece of . . . what _was_ that? Loki narrowed his eyes to inspect it and realized it was chalk. So that was the source of all the smudges on the walls. Words and symbols were taking shape as Dalin began his work.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked.

"Getting ready for the spell, of course!" Dalin answered without a care in the world.

"What spell?"

"Oh, well, I shouldn't say—you wouldn't like it, no, no, no."

The answer made Loki's anxiety spike. If even this crazy mage would not tell him what spell was being prepped for, it did not mean well.

"O-okay," Loki stammered, real fear settling in. He fidgeted in his bonds. "Will it kill me?" He wanted a second answer.

Dalin turned to the laying god, his head cocked. "Will what kill you? I won't kill you, no, no, no!"

"So I won't die?"

"I—not by me, not me!"

Loki's patience snapped. "By the Norns, you're the magic user! You're the one preparing this spell! You are going to kill me, are you not!?" He pulled at his restraints, frustrated.

Dalin shifted in place, his silvery eyes avoiding Loki's gaze.

"Mister Sage commands it so. I have to obey him, you know," Dalin murmured, mood changing from eccentric to sullen.

Loki found the switch unnerving. Maybe if he appealed to this obviously insane man, he'd release him.

"Is Sage the one who gave you that scar?" the god questioned slowly. He kept his eyes on the wizard.

Dalin perked up again, meeting Loki's gaze this time, a chalk dusted hand going to the scar. "I have to follow! Can't afford another one." He dropped his hand, leaving a white streak on his face, and turned back to the walls. He resumed his quick writing.

 _Okay, I have to be careful with this. I don't want him turning on me,_ Loki thought.

"Dalin . . . if you let me go, I can get you out of here. You'll never have to worry about Sage hurting you again," Loki explained.

Dalin froze. He stood there for a long time, unmoving. Loki held his breath, nervous.

"No, no, no. I have to do the spell, the spell! You know? Yes, the spell," Dalin finally rambled on, dashing Loki's hope of escape. "I must finish the words, see? And then you, small prince."

"W-what?"

"I've got the tools, I do! Don't worry, don't worry, I'll make it as least painful as I can." Dalin began humming to himself as he worked, scrawling more ruins across the walls.

Loki took a deep breath to steady himself. He couldn't get worked up. He needed to remain calm. He wasn't sure exactly what Dalin meant by what he said, but it wouldn't do to dwell on it.

An hour passed as the wizard finished his work on the walls. He dropped the chalk on the floor and ran his hands through his dark hair, streaking the white dust throughout it. He didn't seem to realize he'd done this and continued.

Dalin bent to retrieve something he'd set on the floor earlier and stood straight again. Loki's heart skipped a beat when he saw it was a knife. A very sharp knife, if the glint off its edges was anything to go by.

Loki struggled in his restraints as Dalin approached him. Panic welled in the god's breast as he frantically looked around for anything to help him.

"The twins did a good job in getting you here, yes they did," Dalin commented as if it were completely normal to say. He placed one thin hand on Loki's chest and tapped his fingers against his armor. "But they didn't do as I want and undress you. Sad, sad, sad. Annoying!" Dalin seemed irritated now, and he placed the knife's tip against the bottom of Loki's chest piece.

"Look, you don't have to do this! Come on, Dalin, isn't being free worth the risk?" Loki asked hurriedly, hoping to swing the man in his favor.

Dalin cocked his head at Loki and tsked. "Now, now, don't fret!"

Loki squirmed as much as he could like this. It did nothing to stop Dalin's knife from slicing through his armor like it was nothing more than burlap. He cut around the gold accents and up to the god's neck, then began peeling the armor away from his chest.

The rush of air had Loki panicking, and he fought as best he was able. Dalin barely noticed.

"Sorry, little prince. I have a job, yes I do," Dalin said, his head bobbing in a nod. He rocked on his feet and sharpened the knife again for a brief moment.

"Please, I can help you! My brother will come for me, and he can get us both out of here!" Loki tried explaining, struggling to remain collected.

Dalin shook his head. "Sorry, little prince," he repeated. He pressed a hand against Loki's sternum to keep him steady while the other hand lowered the knife down to just under his ribcage. The tip pressed against his skin; Loki could feel just how sharp it was now. He trembled under the blade.

"Thor, help me!" Loki couldn't help the terrified cry he let out.

The first drops of blood fell.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the long wait!**


	3. Searching

**A/N: Just so I can feel better about writing Thor and Loki as more breakable—in this story—Thor is around 800 years old, which means Loki is under that at around 400 years old. (Keep in mind Thor is canonically 1,500 years old in Infinity War.)**

* * *

Thor barely avoided falling headfirst into a pitfall. He'd been searching for Loki, not really paying attention to the ground, but when his foot fell and then there was suddenly nothing beneath it, he'd recoiled.

Now, his surprise fading and his curiosity piqued, the large god leaned over the edge of the pit. His blond hair hung at the fringes of his vision as he strained his eyes, hoping for a glimpse of something at the bottom. It was not the deepest he'd ever seen, definitely not enough to kill Æsir such as he and Loki, but enough to maybe leave them winded.

As Thor looked closer, he could see this one had been opened recently due to the too organized array of underbrush around the entrance; not just opened by him, but by someone else. Thoughts of Loki falling down and hurting himself filled Thor's head, and he needed no other reason to jump into the shadows.

Just as Thor was about to take the initiative and leap, something hard shoved him from behind. A sharp gasp left his mouth as he pitched forward, headfirst for real this time. The fall wasn't long enough and the tunnel not wide enough for him to try and maneuver himself into a different position. All he could do was use his arms to try and take the force of his fall.

Thor hit the ground with an unsavory **THUD** as his upper body crashed first, followed by his legs. He was dully aware of Mjölnir slamming down beside him, and a small thought of relief came at the knowledge that he had his enchanted weapon; however, he was still reeling from the abrupt fall. His forearms and shoulders burned with the force taken and he'd smacked his head against the ground despite his trying not to.

Thor laid there for a minute, blinking away the spots in his vision. Somewhat better, he pushed himself up on shaking arms, fumbling for balance as he did so. The thunder god swung back on his knees and noticed the drops of fresh blood scattered on the floor. He'd split open his right brow upon the crash and was now blinking blood out of his vision.

Now he was _really_ angry. There was no denying he'd just been pushed into the pit—maybe whoever had taken Loki had done the same to him. Fortunately for Thor, this fall had done little more than daze him, and with his rage flaring hotter in his mind, he would do anything to get his brother back. The thunderer would not rest until Loki was safe and sound.

His resolve even stronger than before, Thor wiped the blood out of his eye and shook his head to toss his hair back into place. He pushed himself onto one knee and stood with little more than a wobble, flicking his cape out of his way. He glanced upward to see a grate now covering the pit, allowing in beams of moonlight. A thought crossed his mind to wind up and fly out of there, but something told him there was more to this trap than one could see.

Loki was constantly telling him to take in more than the plain five senses could detect, and Thor was sure this was one of those times.

Thor turned in a circle to take in every angle of the pit's rough wall. The space he had was only him plus his arms bent at the elbows wide, so he didn't have much wiggle room. Reaching out, the god felt around the rock to see if there was some sort of hidden door. The pitfall wasn't an efficient way to catch prey if the hunter couldn't get to it without a hassle.

 _And,_ most sentient beings couldn't fly or jump as high as Thor could, so he figured there had to be something down at the bottom for others to collect the fallen. His intuition ended up being correct and his determination was rewarded with a small bump under his fingers.

Thor furrowed his brow, trying to follow the miniscule flaw in the rock. It stretched in a line, and he soon discovered it had two more sides. Yes, a door! Thor grinned at his findings, elated, but realized it more than likely wasn't able to be opened from his side.

Well, here is where Loki's way switched to Thor's way. The thunderer lifted Mjölnir from the floor and, keeping in mind where the hidden door was, raised the hammer above his head. He swung it as hard as he could against the rock, making a small crater that sent cracks webbing out from the center. Thor repeated the action twice more before the door began to cave in on itself and crumble. He used Mjölnir to break the rest of the stone that remained at the top, crunching it beneath his strength.

With the doorway open, Thor smiled to himself and stepped over the pile of rubble at the entry. It was a mistake to underestimate the god of thunder.

However, he was now faced with a long hallway that branched off in half a dozen different points along its length. Thor frowned, sighing at the task that lay ahead. He would have to somehow locate his brother in the numerous and chaotic hallways.

"I'm coming, Loki," Thor said under his breath. He began his journey down the scarcely lit tunnels, his senses on high alert and Mjölnir at his side.

* * *

Loki was trying his best not to scream with every new letter that was carved into the soft flesh of his abdomen. Usually he was more reserved than this, could handle pain better than this, could hold back tears longer than this; but this wasn't the 'usual' by a long shot.

The youngest prince was stretched taught over the altar, his body tense and stiff, every muscle frozen to somehow hold himself together and manage the pain. Every few cuts, Loki couldn't help the cry that ripped from his throat. He was shaking despite his tensing, but the man cutting into him didn't seem to even notice. In fact, Dalin didn't even seem bothered by the act of carving words into a living and awake person's flesh. The crazy wizard hummed softly to himself in light of the situation.

Tears were running down Loki's face into his hairline and his breathing came in uneven bursts. It was unthought of, him splayed across a stone slab, his armor flayed and spread out under his torso as if he were some fish to be gutted.

Blood pooled in the scoop of Loki's stomach, and Dalin brought out a cloth to wipe it away between letters when it got too much. Every time the knife was pressed back to his skin, the trickster flinched and had to hold back sobs.

Not only did this hurt, agony flooding his nerves, but Loki was terrified of what was going to happen. He was to be killed, he knew, but how? Why was he being prepped for this spell? What was its purpose?

He had so many questions and so few answers. He could barely even think straight with all the slicing into him, so he didn't even have time to linger on the confusion.

Loki screamed loudly as the knife jerked deeper into his insides, prompting a new spurt of blood to begin dripping down his side. Beside himself with the added agony, he cried harder, sobbing into the air.

"M-Mister Sage! What a surprise!" Dalin exclaimed, stopping his work and turning away from Loki, leaving the blade stuck in his stomach.

The elf stood in the doorway, his face holding a look of irritation.

"I thought I said to have this done within an hour," Sage snarled, walking forward with an air of superiority. He kept his distance from the altar where Loki laid, breathing erratically, chest rising and falling in small, quick movements to prevent himself from full hyperventilation. Purple eyes glanced over the broken god with disgust before turning on Dalin.

"Well, y-yes, Mister"—

"Master," Sage corrected the fumbling mage as if he'd done it a hundred times already.

—"Master! Yes, yes, yes, well, you see, it's just this spell takes time; I can't afford to make a mistake, you know?" Dalin explained nervously, bloodied hands wringing together. He cowered in Sage's presence, obviously scared.

Sage sighed, bending down to look Dalin in the eyes. "When I say something has to be done, you do it. Right?" His tone was full of faked kindness, dripping with intent.

The wizard blanched, eyes flicking around the room. "U-um, y-yes, yes." He took a step back.

"Then why isn't it _done?"_ Sage snapped in a rage, towering over him the next second.

Dalin flinched, wincing, and was about to say something when he was stopped by the fist that struck him across the face. He stumbled backwards as Sage's arm retreated back to his side, falling on his ass.

"This better be ready in thirty minutes, or else," the elf hissed before turning around and stalking out of the room again.

There were several moments of silence as Dalin sat on the floor, stunned. A bruise was already spreading across the left side of his face under his eye. The threat's warning hanging in the air, Dalin clambered to his feet and shook his head.

Loki, recovered from the abrupt stabbing, laid on the table watching the wizard. Now was his chance.

"You know," the young god began, voice scratchy from all his screaming, "he's using you. Whatever spell he wants to do doesn't benefit you in any way."

Dalin turned and looked carefully at Loki with cloudy silver eyes.

"Just, just let me go and we can get out of here, I promise."

". . . This has happened before, little prince. I'm used to it, uh huh," Dalin said softly, nodding several times. "Mister Sage doesn't like me very much, no, no, no. But I can't."

"Can't what? Leave?" Loki asked. He tried, for the time being, to ignore the pain in his abdomen and his consistent quivering.

Dalin cocked his head, then shrugged. He turned his eyes away from Loki's face and instead glanced down at the god's bloody torso.

Loki noticed the shift and tensed, distressed.

"Dalin, look, I can get us out of here! I have magic, and I could cast an illusion to sneak us out before Sage even knows we're miss"—Loki didn't have time to finish as Dalin tugged the knife out of the trickster's sensitive flesh, drawing out another choked cry. His limbs' trembling intensified, and he was pretty sure he was going into shock from blood loss. Would he even live to see what spell he was supposed to be part of?

The lunatic studied Loki for a minute before saying, "Don't worry, don't worry. I'm almost done, almost done. I just need to get the last part on you here, yes I do."

Loki sagged in his restraints, exhausted and on edge. He shouldn't have been giving up—Thor would come, right?—he needed to use this small window of time without a knife carving into him to think of a plan.

"Will you at least tell me what spell I'm being used for?" Loki asked wearily. He was so worn down.

Dalin was cleaning the blade off before he got back to work. He didn't look at Loki as he replied, "Mister Sage has got plans, yes he does. Big ones, yes."

Loki didn't like the sound of that.

"What kind of plans?"

"Mm . . . not supposed to say nothing, no, no, no. Sorry, prince." Dalin finished cleaning the knife and positioned himself by Loki's side again. Fear ignited in the god's eyes; he didn't want to go through this again, and the realization that he couldn't get out of it made him sick.

* * *

Dalin finally stepped away from Loki's broken form. Fifteen more minutes—though it had felt like hours with the red-hot pain slicing through his flesh.

Now laying in a shallow pool of his own cooling blood, Loki stared up at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes that were cloudy and wet. He could feel the tear tracks on the sides of his face, and he wished he could scrub them away. Despite how he usually had an affinity for the cold, Loki shivered violently. He was sure he was in shock now.

"I'm going to get Mister Sage," Dalin announced as he finished cleaning some of the blood off his hands. He bent and picked up a few items he'd scattered earlier and tucked them away in the hidden cabinet. A moment later, he was gone.

Loki sighed in relief; the man didn't even know the damage he'd done. Dalin wasn't inherently dangerous on his own, and if Loki had not been a prisoner here, surely the wizard would have been just a bit annoying with his lunacy.

Deciding to not lay there and do _nothing_ , Loki instead examined the writing on the walls more intensely. His eyesight was a bit fuzzy from blood loss, but he could mostly tell what was written; he didn't know what it _meant_ , however, for his magic studies were still far from complete. The ruins chalked all over the walls had no meaning to Loki, and when he struggled to crane his neck for a look at the ones carved from his ribs to his waist, he found he didn't know what they were for either. It was all awfully far from his understanding. He felt ignorant and unschooled, but he knew himself that some forms of magic were yet out of his grasp at this age.

Now even more confused, Loki let his thoughts roam to Thor. Just hearing the blundering oaf would put his mind to rest, for at least then, he'd know he was coming. Loki wasn't proud at having to be rescued, but his pride would recover—death, however, was a permanent state.

* * *

Sage entered the room sometime later. The twins stood just outside to guard the entrance; this made Loki's heart flutter. If they were protecting this ritual, then surely there was a threat—and a threat could mean Thor. He was out there somewhere, and apparently, he was close enough to hinder this.

Dalin also followed nervously behind the elf, fidgeting and picking at his hands. Sage walked right up to Loki and looked down at him.

"Well, this is a nice outcome," Sage said with a smug grin.

Loki refrained from speaking for the time being.

"Not going to say anything, princeling?"

"What do you want me to say?" Loki managed to grate out past his sore throat.

Sage smirked, humming. "I suppose the typical begging for your life."

"Never." Loki glared at him. ". . . Although I do have a question."

The elf twitched an ear, obviously waiting.

"If you're going to kill me for whatever spell this is, then don't I deserve to know what for? What cause is it for which I am dying?" Loki tried to keep his voice level. He could at least stall his impending doom for as long as he could, _just in case_ Thor happened to be nearby.

He prayed he was.

Sage seemed more than happy to tell. "Of course, of course. I suppose it is only fair, after all the suffering you've endured," the elf began.

"Well, you see, I'm a bit of a . . . power seeker, as it were. For the past decade, I've sought out mages and other spellcasters and brought them here. Any visiting magic user that happened into the enchanted forests of Vanaheim—they'd end up right where you are. Because you see, princeling, all beings who harness magic have a pool of it inside them—a fact I'm sure you're aware of already.

"Unfortunately, an outside force tapping into this magic typically kills the user. The ritual also demands a specific laying of spells and wards if you don't have the ability to take it yourself. _I_ lack that ability, so I recruited Dalin here to set this all up, and in exchange, I allow him to live. He's an expert with these kinds of spells, so finding a replacement would only hinder my progress."

Loki interrupted, "Progress towards what?"

Sage narrowed his eyes at the intrusion but continued, "Progress towards becoming more powerful than any other being and taking over first Vanaheim, but then other realms. Position as Allfather would surely be fitting, wouldn't it?" The elf let out a small chuckle. "And how was I supposed to react when the twins reported back to me that the _Æsir_ _princes_ , Thor and Loki, were here? Came for the convergence, I take it? It _is_ quite beautiful; I don't blame you for wanting to come. Unfortunate that your longing to be part of this event led to your death—truly a pity.

"Anyway, continuing, once I knew you were here, well, I was beside myself with excitement. As Æsir, you and Thor are not only inherently more _powerful_ than other races, but your magic remains the best in the realms. And everyone knows the younger prince has a particularly special talent for magic." Sage smiled coldly; it made Loki want to growl at him.

"Of course, Thor could have been, by himself, another nice collection of magical power. But he's _much_ harder to contain than you, so I took what I could handle," Sage said. "Does that answer your question, princeling?"

Loki narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the elf. "Is that why your servants are also strangely strong?"

Sage nodded lightly. "Ah, so smart. Anything else?"

"I'm afraid I just don't understand your motives—you're going to drain my magic— _killing me_ —so you can . . . beat Odin?"

Sage met the glare with a flat look. "If you'd like to put it in those terms, fine. Either way, I'm done answering your questions." He straightened up and glanced over to Dalin. "Begin the collection."

"R-right away, Mister Sage!" Dalin immediately brought a ratty journal from under his cloak and flipped it open. Sage snorted at the crazy wizard and stepped back.

Loki swallowed, panic beginning to set in. If Thor truly _was_ coming, it was now or never.

* * *

Luckily for Thor, after only a few minutes of wandering up and down hallways and checking rooms for his brother, he'd run into someone he assumed was a servant by their dress. The short woman had gone pale at his swift approach in the dimly lit hallway and turned, grabbing her skirts, and had run away as fast as she could. Unfortunately, she wasn't very fast at all. Thor easily caught her, snagging her by the back of her dress and keeping her pinned; typically, he wouldn't treat any lady like this, but Loki came before any sense of chivalry.

The woman flinched as Thor bent down to look at her, her whole body quivering.

"Where is my brother?" Thor demanded, not harsh but not friendly either.

"I-I don't know exactly, b-but the cells aren't that f-far from here!" she blubbered, crying out of fear.

"Tell me where."

"T-take three lefts that way, go down the long hallway, turn right, a-and the cells are at the end of the hall!"

Thor repeated her directions several times to himself before nodding and straightening up. He released the servant and gave her a small push in the way he had come, prompting her to leave.

"You will not want to stay here, Miss," Thor said as a warning. The woman stumbled, nodding, before turning and fleeing, skirts bundled in her grasp.

Thor continued the way he had been going, following the woman's directions. He didn't run into any more servants along the way; was this place just devoid of life or were they all hiding?

On edge, Thor swiftly made his way toward the cellblock. It took him roughly five minutes to navigate the dark tunnels. He inwardly thanked his luck of running into that woman so he did not wander aimlessly for hours. Time was of upmost importance at the moment; who knew what Loki could be enduring during his absence?

Thor came upon the stretch of a hallway that hid only a small handful of cells. He walked past each of them, glancing in for a sign of life. Nothing so far. He hoped there was something in the last cell as he approached the end of the hall.

No. Nothing.

Thor's heart sank as he discovered it was also empty. Letting out a disappointed huff, he decided instead to go down the opposite way, the hall facing forward.

He turned around just in time to avoid a punch from someone who'd come up behind him. Thor began to swing Mjölnir up to smack the man out of his way, but a staff thwacked with an unexpected strength against his arm, stopping the action. Thor snapped his head to the side to see a woman wielding the offending weapon, and he was surprised. During his lapse in attention, the man caught Thor across the face, causing him to stagger backwards.

Thor righted himself quickly, accepting the challenge of the hooded figures, and whipped Mjölnir around in his hand, preparing to swing. He lashed out at the woman first and raised his arm to take the attack of the man against his armored gauntlet.

The woman quickly leapt out of his hammer's range and stabbed the end of her wooden staff into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. The man ducked under Thor's raised arm and uppercut him, nearly lifting the thunder god off his feet. He slammed into the bars of the cell behind him with a grunt, throwing his arms out to keep himself upright.

Thor was surprised at the challenge the duo possessed. They were fast and strong; abnormally so, for Vanir people.

Unfortunately for them, they were standing in the way of a god: a god whose little brother had been taken from him. This meant no mercy.

Thor felt the power surge in Mjölnir as he raised his arm less than a second after initially being slammed into the cell's door. Lightning shot out and struck the man, who cried out and was flung backwards a dozen feet. Smoke followed his thrown body; the smell of burnt clothing and flesh filled the hall.

The woman managed to get a hard strike with her staff in against the back of Thor's knee just after he fried her brother. The thunderer dropped briefly onto one knee, earning himself another thwack across his shoulders with her durable weapon before he got Mjölnir up to defend against her blows.

They began fighting in close combat that was much more intense one-on-one with the man out of the way. Thor swung his hammer at her, but she was so fast that she dodged it and retaliated with a series of harsh blows. He fended against all of them, catching them on his forearms. The gauntlets were excellent at taking pressure.

Thor dove low and tackled the woman outright, obviously taking her by surprise. She let out a growl as he plowed her into the floor. Her staff clattered against the stone, but she punched him several times as hard as she could in the back of his head as they fell. Tingles shot through his spine at that.

"Stand down and I might allow you to live!" Thor snarled, grabbing her wrists and forcing her down.

The woman responded to this by spitting at his face, earning a growl and him tightening the pressure on her wrists. If he wanted to, he could break them like twigs.

The woman managed to wrestle one of her legs free from under him and kicked up, catching the god in the jaw with her sharp heel and throwing him off. Thor felt blood dripping down his neck and roared, tired of the distraction.

Mjölnir flew to his outstretched hand and he began swinging it in a tight circle, ready to crush the woman. She was already on her feet, but she was tired, if her posture was anything to go on. Her staff was back in her hands as well.

Thor threw himself forward, closing the distance between him and the woman. He swung Mjölnir in front of him, smashing her into the nearby wall. She hit the stone with a crunch and fell, limp. Her staff rolled out of her grasp with a small clatter.

Thor straightened up, breathing heavier than he would have liked to admit. The woman had been an especially worthy opponent. He'd probably have a few bruises later. The god turned around, ready to go down the long hallway. He swiped a hand across his nose, still bleeding sluggishly from when he'd gotten punched by the man. Red also dripped down the front of his throat into the neckline of his armor thanks to the kick, but he didn't worry about that as he hurried along.

If the man and woman had come down this hall, then surely, he was going the right way.

Thor stopped at a large door nearing the end of the tunnel. He tried to listen for a sign someone was in there, but heard nothing. Well, the rock was thick and would probably be hard to hear through anyway.

The thunderer braced himself and pushed open the door. The room was already different from anywhere else he'd been considering it was actually fully lit. Immediately upon his entry, he was met with the sight of his brother strapped to a table in the center of the room.

"Loki!"


End file.
